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Best Poems Written by Rose Hensley

Below are the all-time best Rose Hensley poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Momma Was a Rollin Stone

Chapter 1;
THE LIGHT THAT COULD NOT BE EXTINGUESHED

They say that demons can be generational, that they can attach themselves to a family for decades with such a stronghold, that the individuals are blissfully ignorant to the forces that are working against them. Ours dug themselves in like an insatiable tick sucking the very marrow out of our family life. And it was just normal to us.
The nurses nicknamed me Rosebud when I was born because I only weighed 2 pounds, and was not expected to live. I was always told that my mother had taken a fall and went into early labor, it wasn’t until 40 years later I would learn the heart wrenching truth that helped set me free.
There are a few fond memories that come to mind during my early years, going to the beach outside of Exeter New Hampshire. I can still clearly see my mom with her bouffant hair do and pokadot bikini. Coal black hair, blue eyes. She was beautiful.
Running through the mossy green creeks of Shickshinny Pennsylvania, chasing frogs. But the most vivid memories are from our journey to the west. My Father was a welder that afforded him the opportunity to venture out west to the Four Corners area of New Mexico when the oilfield was booming in 1978. Dad was born into a wealthy family. The Hickok bloodline, as in Wild Bill Hickok. I can still hear him shouting after several drinks of Importers vodka; YOU GOT HICKOK BLOOD RUNNING THROUGH YOU VIENS, AND DON’T YOU FORGET THAT! But my father was a spoiled brat and he ended up squandering his inheritance, in a drunken stupor. Leaving us kids, nothing but a stiff upper lip. I had 3 brothers and 1 sister.
To be continued...

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My Son

I knew you once, a goodly soul. Your kindness and nature made you whole. Your love and your laughter beamed from your heart, I just knew there was nothing in heaven or earth that could tear us apart. But slowly and surly you started to change, your actions and words made you look so deranged, I prayed and I pondered and hoped it would pass but Lo, it took hold of your soul , so fast? Its crazy, first slow then it changed overnight, how dark your eyes now seem that were once full of light. The boy I called mine and held to my chest, told me he hates me and wished for my death. I lost my sweet boy to that beast they call METH.
I will always keep praying and hold you dear to my heart and pray the day will come when were not torn all apart. If Meth were a person Id tear her to shreds and cast her to hell with the demons she fed. But only our King Jesus and your will to survive, will change your behavior and keep you alive.
In Jesus mighty name, Amen.

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Titanic, Sepulechre At Sea

There she was, the virgin miss, in all her splendid glory on her maiden trip. 
Even God could not sink this ship! 
(Or so it was boasted.) O, words spoken in haste, 
Your own folly shall smite thy face. 
The icy demon came to call 
To watch the maiden take her fall. 
With screams in the bitter night, 
The cold abyss swallowed all her light. 
1,500 young and old, 
To their death in the watery cold. 
Should mere man boast so bold--unsinkable! unsinkable! 
O, great grief, lost little ones, and ones who never had the chance 
To say, "A place for my loved one on your lifeboat, please." 
Woe to certain ones who survived it all-- 
Pray Heaven and sweet forgiveness buoy up your souls 
When judgment comes to call upon your head, 
The night you turned and said, "We have not the room here 
To seat another soul." And your hearts were thinking, 
"Bear a few moments for sure and there will be silence . . .Forevermore

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Beautifully Broken

Broken in all the right places, helps to recognize deceptive faces, our heart is right but its kinda twisted, set in place when life suddenly shifted, but here we are standing tall, half stoic, half empath, thru it all. Beauty or the beast, we dont get to choose, we are ruled by our hearts, tainted and bruised. Bruised by the pain, tainted by lies, glorified by God with the pain in our eyes. Whom ever can love us, will be blessed beyond compare, who ever deceives, left in despair.

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Words

WORDS:
Brag, complain, gossip, Praise, compliment, pray. You choose. You do choose! If you win or loose. Words have power. Words created light. Words make you cower or stand and fight. Our inner words are wizards real, with subconscious incantations from the way we feel. Like lost puppies until we grow old. Only then we discover the gold. We recollect what we could have done, we reminisce on youthful fun. I could have done this, I should have done that, until were so damn old, we hang up our hat. Everyone dies, not everyone lives, Be grateful for the day and the blessings it gives. In that my friend is the secret to life, to stand tall at fear and boldly face the strife. To laugh in the face of your biggest fear. With grace you behold salvation, so clear.

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Nobility, What of It

Nobility, What of it?
Why are we inspired by men of old?
What passion strikes us by speakers bold? 
Of the will of living and noble stories told .
Is it a searching of something within? To seek 
and bring forth triumphant nobility? To tell 
tales of men nobler then even believable and 
thus we believe and perhaps become the nobler 
Even if it be in the smallest measure. 
Ha! what simple creatures are we ,that upon 
some fantastic hour we might become some 
heroic entity. What a dance we do! What a play 
we display! Lest God may look down upon us laughingly shaking his head....